Of Sex, Drugs and Hogwarts as THEY know it
by Spunkz the wacked out Spaz
Summary: This is Hogwarts as THEY know it. It is nothing like you've been lead to believe. Harry and Voldie are thinking up a plot to raise money and Sev is the only one who can stop them! Ron is improperly medicated! Hermione has no reflexes! Rated R for a reason


Disclaimer: hey, if I owned it I wouldn't be wasting my time writing fanfics, would I? Sue me, I dare ya. I have a whole 50p to lose!  
  
Guest Starring: an improperly medicated Ron and Hermione's amazingly slow reaction time.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
Not many people know that Voldemort, aka DLFH (Dark Lord From Hell) and Harry Potter were actually the best of friends. They had feigned killing each other to make money from the books that an unwitting Muggle called JK Rowling would sooner or later write.  
  
There had been one small flaw in their plan. Harry had killed Voldie by accident, which sparked off the inconvenience of reincarnation. Harry had offered to pay Voldie double wages for his trouble but, as Voldie pointed out, money couldn't by the three ingredients needed to turn someone into a zombie.  
  
Thus, the Harry Potter books were born.  
  
But I'm not going to take you to the wizard world you know, where now that Voldie is finally alive again everyone is trying to kill him. I'm going to take you to the real wizarding world:  
  
"I am you, you stuck up arse!" Ron said.  
  
"What the fuck are you talking about?" Ron said.  
  
"Why don't you remove the stick and any other kitchen implements and listen?" Ron said.  
  
"I am fucking well listening you arsewit!" Ron said.  
  
Harry gripped his temples in dispair. "Ron, could you stop talking to yourself now, please?"  
  
Voldie glanced over at his benefactor's best friend.  
  
"Is he all right?" He asked, almost genuinely concerned.  
  
"I think. The stupid house elves improperly medicated him. I've only just stopped him from thinking he was a dog. He kept trying to hump my leg."  
  
"Didn't you get him fixed?"  
  
"Do you know how hard it is to get him to a vet?" Harry replied stoically, eyeing the redhead. "Isn't it Hermione?"  
  
There was a pause.  
  
"Hermione?"  
  
Both Harry and Voldie turned to look at the fourth and final member of their group. She was walking along looking at the floor, like she usually did when no one was talking to her.  
  
"We've lost her too. It's just me and you, buddy." Harry said.  
  
They looked at each other.  
  
And screamed.  
  
"Yes?" Hermione said. Both relatively sane people looked at her in surprise. "Yes, Ron didn't like going to the vet much. Especially when the vet got the big cutters out, Ron went ballistic. In the end, the vet had to go to the vet!"  
  
"Doesn't she mean the doctors?" Voldie asked Harry, who grinned.  
  
"Ron was in a bad mood." Was his answer.  
  
The four of them had just sent an Owl off to one of Voldemort's marketing contacts and were heading back down to the common room when they bumped into Snape. Literally.  
  
"Ouch." Said Snape, who was hanging upside down from the ceiling by his feet. When you bumped into Voldemort, it wasn't an experience you forgot in a hurry.  
  
"What are you doing here, Mr Fuckwit?" Harry snapped, glaring up at his Potions Master. Snape squinted back down at the boy, as one of his contact lenses had flown out on crashing with the Dark Lord.  
  
"I know what you're planning, Potter!" He snarled, peering at the plant pot in the corner.  
  
Harry's heart did a backflip in his chest.  
  
"Oh yeah?" He managed, but Snape refused to stop.  
  
"I also know that it was you that ate my owl last summer!"  
  
Harry's heart and stomach entered the Olympics as a gymnastic duo. Thankfully Voldie stepped in at exactly the right time.  
  
"You shut your big mouth or I'll be forced to call the RNLI!"  
  
Snape's face screwed up in confusion.  
  
"The Royal National Lifeboat Association?" he asked.  
  
"That's the one." Voldie clarified, raising the spell and dropping Snape on his head. The Potions Master staggered off, clutching his head in both hands and muttering unintelligibly to himself about god knows what.  
  
"Hi Professor." Hermione said cheerfully, looking at the spot where Snape had been a moment before. Ron growled and urinated on the plant pot.  
  
Madam Hooch zoomed past on Harry's broomstick, which has nothing whatsoever to do with the plot but is just something random I felt like putting in to keep the randomosity levels up. Otherwise this wouldn't be a Spunkz fic!  
  
Harry ran after Hooch, trying to get his broom back before finally giving up and going back to his friends.  
  
They resumed walking to dinner, occasionally being greeted or insulted by the portraits, depending what mood they were in.  
  
"Hey, that's Harry's broomstick!" Hermione shouted suddenly. Ron jumped at a butterfly, slipped from the stairs and plummeted two stories, landing on the Gryffindor table in the Great Hall with a sickening squelch. Voldie frowned and shook his head.  
  
"Trust that lazy bugger to take a short cut. Why couldn't he walk like everyone else?" He grumbled to himself, much to Harry's amusement.  
  
"God knows, Voldie, though by the sound of his landing, the food isn't all that edible today."  
  
"Not that it ever is."  
  
The three remaining conspirators entered the great hall to general confusion. Seamus was arm-wrestling with Dean on the table, and they were both cheating using salt, pepper, sugar, cushions, spoons, forks, butcher's knives, machetes and javelins. Neville was urging them on while Fred, George and Lee were running a polling booth to bet on the outcome.  
  
On the Slytherin table, people were paying Draco and Pansy to do the full monty and simultaneously have sex on the table, though they were making sure none of their still-edible food was in the way.  
  
The Ravenclaws had set up a withstanding trade of illegal substances including weed, hash, ecstasy, magic mushrooms, donkey's arse, chalk, cocaine, crack, little-people-dancing-naked-on-the-ceiling, solvents, biggle and crack biggle.  
  
The Hufflepuffs were making calls and killing students with 2x4 muggle technology. The other houses were huddled together in fear and every now and again one of their number would be picked off by a plastic bullet from a bubble-gum gun or a paper boomerang. The Hufflepuffs had grown from being one of the least respected houses to the most feared, a feat usually only accomplished by Slytherins.  
  
The teachers seemed to be turning a blind eye to this, and Harry and Voldie knew that it was only happening because Snape wasn't here to keep order. The Potions Master was the only one who could control the students. Hermione would know this too, in about five minutes time.  
  
After Albus Dumbledore's sanity had reached the point of snapping, he had resigned to become the new Let's Kill People teacher, a lesson that was only taught by Hogwarts. The Governors, who included Sirius and Remus, had elected Snape to Headmaster-dom. Confused? You will be.  
  
Snape's regime had actually been quite profitable for the school. Lessons were much more useful and now the only house that tried to kill the others was Hufflepuff. Ravenclaws, Slytherins and Gryffindors stuck together in huge wads, mostly out of fear of the Hufflepuffs.  
  
Harry and Voldie dragged Hermione to the Gryffindor table, ducking the onslaught of ammunition from the Hufflepuffs and the omnious hallucinogenic cloud from the Ravenclaws' home-rolled cigarettes.  
  
Those Gryffindors who weren't busy gambling on the outcome of the arm- wrestling were attempting to scrape Ron off the table, where he had half landed in a well placed blancmange. He was ok. The blancmange wasn't.  
  
"My sincerest greetings!" Percy Weasley, one of the school's punchbags said to Harry and co. Voldie silenced him permanently with a wave of his wand.  
  
"You are not funny!" He remarked, half to himself, as the now-tongueless boy wandered blindly off into the range of the Hufflepuffs. A dreadful scream came from the general direction, followed by a long silence and then a hearty cheer. It sounded as though the Gryffindor's would soon need a new prefect.  
  
"You have something on your back." Harry remarked to the Dark Lord. Voldie turned around to find a post-it note stuck on his robes.  
  
"What the hell is this?" He asked irately, ripping it off. "'u sucka we kikkd yur arse in thuh Quidditch mach, lots of love, Lushus Malphoi.'"  
  
He tore up the note and set fire to it by glaring at it.  
  
"I swear I will kill that wanker one day. He can't even spell, the only phrase he can get right is "lots of love." He can't even spell his own name right, for God's sake!"  
  
Harry tried to calm his friend down, but Hermione chose that moment to hear the conversation from ten minutes back.  
  
"God, Percy, shut UP!" She snarled. The Gryffindors working at the table finally managed to peel Ron off, and backed away armed with crowbars as he growled at them, before bounding over to the Slytherin table where Draco and Pansy were on the last layer.  
  
Hermione wandered vaguely off towards the Ravenclaw table with a 10 Galleon note flapping obviously in her pocket. She knew that she could get a very good deal on Crackpot's Crap, a very powerful hallucinogenic drug developed by Dumbledore in his brief moments of insanity.  
  
Snape dropped in from a trapdoor in the ceiling, suspended from the feet by a noose. He shouted at his faculty a while before all the blood rushed to his head and he lost consciousness. Then he just dangled to and fro, no one taking much notice of him.  
  
The staff looked up at him briefly before going their separate ways. Some went to the Gryffindors to gamble. Some went to the Slytherins to watch live porn. Some went to the Ravenclaws to smoke illegal and dangerous substances. And some went to the Hufflepuffs to play with explosives.  
  
All in all, a normal day at Hogwarts School as THEY know it. 


End file.
